


Lefted Behind 2 - Paradise Lost and Found

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-17
Updated: 2005-09-17
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Written by Gallagater and Charli BookerSPOILERS: Scorched EarthSUMMARY: The SGC has once again been overrun by an alien incursion, but this one has Jack O’Neill wrapped around her little finger.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

  
Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - Lefted Behind - Paradise Lost and Found

##  Lefted Behind - Paradise Lost and Found

##### Written by Gallagater and Charli Booker  
Comments? Write to us at 7j4him@prodigy.net; charli.booker@netzero.com

  * SPOILERS : Scorched Earth
  * SUMMARY : The SGC has once again been overrun by an alien incursion, but this one has Jack O’Neill wrapped around her little finger.
  * PG-13 [D] [Hu]
  * Sequel/Series Info: #2 in the Lefted Behind Series
  * Content Warnings: A teeny, tiny bit of potty-mouth



* * *

_  
_

All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost.  
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

* * * * *

Ten miles from the base, Jack’s cell phone rang. "What?" he barked, then revised his approach when Daniel didn’t immediately respond. "O’Neill here."

"Jack?" a woman said.

Okay, definitely _not_ Daniel. "Yes. Who’s this?"

"This is Molly. Molly Cross."

Who the hell?

"Your neighbor."

He glanced in the side mirror then eased the pick-up around a semi with ‘City Market’ emblazoned in red down the side. "Oh, Molly. I’m sorry. I’m a little . . . distracted." To say the least. There was a cute, barefoot, four year-old alien wearing a scrub shirt and his sunglasses lost somewhere within the depths of Cheyenne Mountain.

"I didn’t mean to bother you, Jack."

"No bother. Is something wrong?"

"No. I just wanted to let you know you’d received a package. Something from L.L. Bean. I didn’t want to leave it sitting on your front steps, and I wasn’t sure when you’d be home."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"We haven’t seen you for a while. How are you doing?"

"Good. How’s Jimmy?" Jimmy was Molly’s and Wayne’s twelve year-old son. The kid was high-strung and leaning towards delinquency, but he was smart and during the few afternoons that Jack had spent with him, it had become obvious that the kid aimed for perfection. Probably too much.

"He’s doing great. I caught him playing street hockey with your gear the other day. I hope you don’t mind."

"I don’t mind. Just tell him to save a game for me."

Molly laughed softly. "I’ll do that. Well, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have things to do."

"Thanks for taking care of the package. I’ll pick it up next time I’m home."

"Not a problem. It’s here at the house whenever you want to drop by. Be careful out there, Jack."

"You, too."

As Jack disconnected, he thought about the Cross family. There were times when he seriously considered retiring again. He wasn’t old by any means, but he certainly wouldn’t mind slowing down. Maybe collect some well-earned retirement, hire on as a consultant for some security company, or teach a few classes at the Academy. Hell, lately, he’d even been giving serious thought to starting his own back-country guide service. He didn’t want to babysit a bunch of drunken, loud-mouthed thrill-seekers out for a little blood and glory, but he was sure there were people out there who’d love to see the wilds of the Rockies, the Sierras, or the Bitterroot Mountains armed with nothing more than a camera and a keen sense of the miracle of nature.

It was a good dream. Soothing. Something that armed him for battle, steadied his aim when he was weary of the fighting and the dying and the never-ending phalanx of innumerable snakes that seemed to crawl out of the galactical woodwork with unfailing regularity. But, it was a fleeting dream. One he was fairly certain he’d never live to see to fruition. And that was a shame, really. Because he was pretty sure he’d make a great civilian. It had taken nearly half a century, but Jack O’Neill was finally getting to know himself. And he thought maybe there might even be someone out there who’d like to get to know him back.

But then, he thought about the Crosses and the millions of other families like them, and he knew that the dream was just that - a dream. And, as much as he wanted to be ‘just the nice man who lives next door,’ he couldn’t. Because there was a battle going on, and it was up to him and those with whom he served to stop it. To keep the Molly’s and the Wayne’s and the Jimmy’s of the world safe. To keep _their_ dreams a reality.

Maybe that’s why Maci was getting to him. Because just a few days before, he’d stood on the surface of that alien planet and he’d pushed the death button on one of the few true friends he had. And, in that instant, Jack saw what he was. He wasn’t a back-country guide or a security specialist or a professor of military history. He was a killer. And, it seemed he’d come full circle. He’d pushed a similar button years before - a button meant to destroy himself, his men, an alien civilization.

The Abydonians were safe. The Gadmeer were safe. Thanks to Daniel. Daniel had saved them from him.

Then Maci had come crawling out of the midst of the devastation. A whole, beautiful little person who sought him out. Who looked to _him_. Trusted _him_. Not Daniel. Not Carter. Not even Teal’c. Just him . . . Jack O’Neill. Killer. Civilian wannabe. Maybe he hoped she saw something he didn’t. Some remnant of the man he’d always wanted to be.

Deep in thought, his phone rang three times before he even noticed.

"What?" he barked.

* * * * *

Daniel Jackson was acutely aware of his shortcomings. For instance, he knew that before he’d married Sha’re and moved in with her large, extended family on Abydos, he’d been somewhat lacking in social skills. He knew that when it came to his work, he tended to be somewhat focused, which was rather ironic considering he was nearly blind as a bat. He talked too much and he talked too fast . . . especially when he was excited. Speaking of which, when he got excited and began talking too much and too fast, his hearing shut down and his body started doing a weird, spastic, hopping sort of dance which he knew irritated everyone, including himself. He just couldn’t help it. All of which helped to explain why Jack worried about Daniel and firearms.

About a month after SG-1 officially became a team, Jack began taking him to one of the local training facilities. There, he’d supply Daniel with assorted weapons - an M9 Beretta pistol, an M-4 Carbine, an MP-5 - none of which were loaded. Then, he’d make Daniel walk through what was basically Jack’s own horrifying version of a funhouse. He’d jump out when Daniel least expected it, sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder, yell in his ear, shoot him with paint balls - all aimed at teaching Daniel not to flinch and inadvertently pull the trigger on his teammates. After two months of weekly lessons, Daniel had progressed fairly well. Was actually making what he thought was good headway. At least, he was . . . until Jack had made the mistake of arming him with a zat gun. Daniel wasn’t sure what had scared him more: watching Jack twitch and jerk and moan in agony at the electricity shooting through his body, and trying to remember if he’d pulled the trigger once or twice; or, watching Jack recover and realizing his own life would probably end in the shadowy depths of a metal warehouse and no one other than Jack would ever know what had become of his rotting corpse.

It was not dissimilar to the feeling that pulsed through his veins when he dropped his lunch tray into the pile at the end of the buffet line, and turned around to discover that Maci was nowhere in sight. Jack was going to kill him.

He reacted instinctively - he yelled. He screamed out Maci’s name in a tone of such sheer panic, he later realized if she _had_ heard him, it probably would have scared her into running for the nearest bomb shelter . . . another irony, seeing as they were sitting at the bottom of a missile silo. But then, how the hell was she supposed to know that?

His next step had been to shout obscenities at everyone else in the mess hall, telling them in no uncertain terms if they knew what was good for them, they’d stop whatever they were doing and look under their tables for a curly-haired alien kid with bad table manners and Jack O’Neill for a nanny.

The fact that every single person within hearing immediately dropped their eating utensils to scramble under tables and peer into trash receptacles was a testament to their fear of the man. Jack would have been humbled, and yet distinctly proud in a smart-assed kind of way.

Daniel had learned his House of Horrors lessons well. Thanks to Jack, he no longer jumped the gun, so to speak. At least, that’s what he told himself as he ran out into the hallway looking for a short humanoid wearing a blue scrub shirt with pasta sauce, yogurt and mashed potatoes smeared down the front. He ran to the end of the hallway, and bumped into a young lieutenant who was rounding the corner staring down at a clipboard.

"Excuse me. I’m sorry." Stumbling, Daniel reached for the clipboard, and glanced in both directions down the long corridor. Nothing. "Did you see Maci? A . . . uh . . . a little girl, about this high," he held his hand thigh-high, "wearing a . . . a blue shirt and Jack’s sunglasses?"

"Who?"

"A kid?" Daniel yelled. "Did you see a kid or not?"

The airman looked at Daniel like he’d lost his mind. "No, sir."

The lieutenant had been coming from the left, so Daniel ran in the opposite direction. The only thing in that direction was the isolation rooms. He tried each door, all of which were locked, and yelled her name. Nothing. Breathless, he shot into the stairwell, leaned over the rail and looked up, then down. He strained to hear over his labored breathing.

"Maci!"

Nothing answered him but an echo and his own hurried heartbeat battering away at his temples. Cursing under his breath, he ran back into the corridor. Finding the nearest wall phone, he dialed Sam’s lab, and told her what had happened.

"Okay, Daniel. Just calm down."

"I am calm!"

"Of course, you are. But, just take a couple of deep breaths. She can’t have gone far."

Daniel gritted his teeth. Swallowing a lump of what he hoped was adrenaline back down his throat, he forced himself to speak distinctly, calmly. "If we don’t find her, Jack is going to kill me. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

"Yes. Yes, I understand. And, yes, he probably will. But, don’t worry about it. We’ll find her. The little brat has to be somewhere nearby. Did you check all the rooms on that floor?"

"Of course, I did!" So much for calm.

"Well, you don’t have to bite my head off!"

"Sorry."

"It’s okay," Sam placated. "She wasn’t hiding under one of the tables in the cafeteria? Playing a game with you?"

"No. Everyone looked."

"Then she could only go up or down. Either way, she’d have to take the stairs."

"Oh God. Sam, what if she finds one of the armories?"

"Daniel, don’t panic. The armories are locked. No way could she get in one, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay."

"So, here’s what we’ll do: I’ll call Hammond. We’ll put everyone on alert, and start a search."

"Okay. Yeah. That’s great."

"You’ll call the colonel."

Time froze. The corridor in which he stood shrank. The lump in his throat jostled alarmingly, and his heart momentarily stopped. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively calm. "What?"

"Daniel, he’s going to find out. Do you want to tell him yourself, or have him find out from someone else?"

"Someone else."

"No. You don’t. Trust me on this." When he didn’t respond, she sighed. "Listen, call him up and calmly explain she slipped away from you, but we’re starting a search. Just tell him to go on about his business, that it’s no big deal, and you just wanted him to know what was going on. He’ll be fine with it."

"He’ll kill me."

"He won’t kill you."

Eventually, she convinced him. As he dialed Jack’s cell phone, Daniel replayed Sam’s words. ‘Just go about your business, Jack. It’s no big deal. We’ll find her. I just wanted to let you know.’ Yeah. He could do that.

But, he didn’t. Somehow, he skipped right over the ‘remain calm’ phase and went straight for the jugular. ‘I think you’d better get back here. Jack . . . I lost her.’ Smooth, Jackson.

Expecting a verbal reaming, at first he was surprised then relieved at the calm tone of Jack’s voice when Daniel confided he’d lost Maci. Jack simply told him he was headed back to the base, to keep him informed, then he hung up. However, reflecting on the conversation as he joined in the search, Daniel revised his thinking. The longer he searched, the more terrified he became. Because, anyone who’d worked with Jack knew that the man was at his calmest right before he murdered someone.

"Doctor Jackson?" Daniel looked at the young airman who held up a finger as she obviously listened to something over her headphone. Finally, she graced him with a smile. "Sir, your presence is requested in Doctor MacKenzie’s office."

" _What_?" Was this some kind of joke? Yeah, he’d panicked a little. But, who wouldn’t under the circumstances? He certainly didn’t deserve to be sent to a shrink. Not yet anyway. At least wait until he’d endured Death by O’Neill.

"The young girl is in his office, sir."

Her words were probably still echoing through the corridors of Level 23 when Daniel threw open the door of MacKenzie’s office two levels up. Panting, he was immediately struck by the Norman Rockwell-esqueness of the scene before him. MacKenzie was ensconced in his brick-red leather chair while Maci was sitting across the desk from him in one of the visitor’s seats. Her short, bare legs sticking straight out, she was jiggling her feet and clutching at the padded arms of the chair with dirty little hands. At Daniel’s entrance, she turned to look at him. Half her face hidden behind Jack’s dark sunglasses, she grinned, obviously delighted to see him.

"Daniel!"

"Maci." Catching his breath, Daniel walked towards the desk. Only then did he realize that MacKenzie looked . . . exhausted, wrung out. Daniel knelt beside Maci’s chair. "Maci, you scared me. I couldn’t find you."

"I wasn’t losted, Daniel. I was looking for inkabator things for the baby turtles, and I found Stephen."

"Stephen?"

MacKenzie cleared his throat.

"Oh," Daniel grinned. "You mean, Doctor MacKenzie?"

Maci frowned and pointed at MacKenzie. "Stephen. His mommy lives a long way away, and he hasn’t seen her for a very long time. Will I get to see my mommy soon?"

Daniel hated lying; unfortunately, he was getting quite good at it. "Sure. It shouldn’t be long at all."

"Doctor Jackson, fabricating an untruth in order to simply delay having to tell the child-"

"Shut up."

MacKenzie flinched. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Daniel kept his eyes on Maci, who was watching both men curiously. "Maci, why don’t you come with me? I think Janet has some cool balloons shaped like hands. Do you know what a balloon is?"

Maci slid off her seat, her makeshift dress riding up in the back. "No. Can you make a inkabator out of it?"

Daniel straightened her dress then grabbed hold of a sticky hand. "I’m not sure. Maybe Janet can tell us."

"Is Janet the one that hurt my arm?"

"No. That was Sam."

MacKenzie stood. "Major Carter hurt this child?"

"MacKenzie, would you just-"

Maci pulled away from Daniel and hurried around the desk, throwing small arms around the startled psychiatrist’s legs. "Wha-," he stammered, as the child hugged him before returning to Daniel’s side.

Maci took Daniel’s hand. "He doesn’t know where his daddy lives. Stephen’s very sad," she pronounced.

" _Really_?" Daniel glanced from Maci to MacKenzie, who was slowly sitting back down in his chair. "Well, now isn’t that interesting?"

"Perhaps . . . perhaps you should take her to Doctor Fraiser."

"Yeah, I’ll do that." Shutting MacKenzie’s door, Daniel couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he approached the psychiatrist’s assistant. "Can I use your phone for a minute?"

"Sure, Doctor Jackson."

Still smiling, Daniel dialed the phone and stared down at the little girl who was still holding his hand.

"What?" Jack barked.

"Jack? Daniel. No need to worry. We found her, and she’s fine."

He could almost feel Jack’s relief flooding the airways. "She’s okay? You’re sure?"

"Yeah. She paid a little visit to MacKenzie," Daniel chuckled.

There was a momentary pause. "I swear to God, Daniel, if that asshole so much as-"

"Calm down, Jack. He didn’t. In fact, I’d say if anyone was being analyzed, it was _Stephen_."

"Who?"

Daniel laughed softly. "Maci managed to find out more about the guy in ten minutes than you have in four years."

Jack chuckled then sobered. "That’s great, Daniel, but listen up. If you manage to lose her again, you and I are going to make a return visit to a secluded warehouse. And this time, I’m not going to be armed with a paint ball gun. Comprendé, mí amigo?"

Daniel’s grip on Maci’s hand tightened reflexively.

"Ow!"

He flinched and eased his grip, mouthing ‘sorry’ to the frowning girl. "Uh, yeah, Jack. I got that."

"Good. Now, I’m headed to the store and I’ll be back in about an hour. Maybe two."

"Okay."

"Daniel . . ."

"Yeah?" He smiled down at Maci who had pulled her hand away from his and was studying it closely.

"I do not want to get another call from you."

"Sure, Jack. No problem."

* * * * *

Jack eased the Ford between the long rows of SUV’s and minivans, cursing under his breath at the absent owner of the teal KIA who had skirted over the line in the only available parking slot. Great. That left him the choice of squeezing in and risking a ding, or hiking halfway back to the mountain to find another place in this damn lot. Whoever had invented the idea of a superstore could teach the system lords a thing or two about torture. And, the really scary thing was, if the jammed parking lot was any indication, Colorado Springs was full of masochistic shoppers of the highest order.

A tap on a horn and an impatient gesture from the driver of a black Taurus made the decision for him. Wrenching the wheel hard, Jack edged into the narrow space. Several feigned attempts were needed - back and forth, ease forward and inch back - before he was finally able to angle into the spot. Unable to fully open his door, he squeezed his butt against the frame and wormed out of the tight space between the vehicles.

"Jerk!" the peeved driver of the Taurus mouthed through a closed window.

Jack gifted her with his most charming ‘eat-shit-and-die’ smirk, nodded politely, and gave his Ford’s tailgate an affectionate little pat before snagging an abandoned cart with a gimpy wheel and heading towards the entrance. He grinned at the whine of the Taurus’s engine as the driver stomped the gas pedal. Ah, the small, unexpected victories in life.

He’d taken less than a half dozen steps into the crowded store when Jack remembered why he hated shopping. The aisles were crammed with displays, everything from suntan lotion to Sominex, baseball gloves to bananas. Dodging rogue kids and a bevy of browsers, the more seasoned shoppers maneuvered around the obstacles with the casual ease of Teal’c guiding a tel’tac through an asteroid field.

Jack inched his way past the electronics department, pausing momentarily to ogle a clip of Mary Steenburger gloriously duplicated in all her multitude of flat screened beauty. He wondered what Maci would think of _Elf_. She was obviously a bright kid, so no doubt she’d love it. He sifted through a pile of DVD’s. The coveted movie eluded him, but he did find half a dozen kids programs which didn’t include purple dinosaurs or chirping, effeminate aliens, and which looked like they’d hold a little kid’s attention.

Thankfully, the girls department was a tad less chaotic than the main aisles. Jack felt like he’d stumbled into an organdy and lace oasis. A pre-teen and her mother argued next to a display of multi-colored bras. Apparently, _all_ the girls in the sixth grade were wearing purple lace bras. Jack filed that bit of information away, and scanned the area for a sympathetic-looking sales person. He spotted her immediately. Chatting with another clerk while she straightened and sorted a pile of pastel sweats, she oozed the aura of a Good Samaritan. Inching into a strategic position, Jack plastered a look of overwhelming helplessness on his face, and flipped through a rack of hip huggers that would have come close to fitting Carter.

"Need some help finding something, sir?"

"Oh, yeah. Most definitely."

A few feet away, the exasperated mother gave a final glare at her daughter’s choice of undergarments, and made a sweeping gesture towards the cart. Muttering empty threats, she gave a final, exasperated sigh and headed towards the checkout. The girl, practicing the age-old art of selective deafness, rolled her eyes at her mother’s retreating back, and snatched a flaming red twin of the purple lace contraption in her mother’s cart. As she marched after her mother grasping her battle flag and obviously eager for another skirmish, Jack decided to avoid the checkout until after the fallout of the upcoming conflict had settled.

"Kids." The sales clerk shook her head with a conspiratorial smile. "You gotta love ‘em. You don’t have a daughter who wants a bra, do you? We have them in several attractive and . . . bright colors."

Dragging his eyes from the remnants of Battle of the Brassieres, Jack stared at her in horror. "No, thank God," he muttered before catching the laughter in her eyes. "Ah, clothing sales humor, huh . . . Diana?" he added, reading her name tag.

She smirked and gave a shrug. "Beats going nuts staring at the latest Mary Kay and Ashley fashion," she laughed. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"I need some clothes for a four year-old about this tall." His hand hovered vaguely in space somewhere above his kneecaps. "She needs . . . everything."

"Everything as in . . . everything?"

"There was a fire." It was the truth as far as it went, and Diana’s expression immediately melted into the sympathy he was shooting for.

"Poor thing. We’ll get her fixed up, but we may need a little help on this one."

Nearly an hour later, Jack aimed his gimpy cart towards the checkout. Looking back, he raised a hand and saluted his thanks towards Diana and her minion standing in the aisle no doubt discussing his ass . . . ets to the company stock. As he waited in line, Jack gawked at the pile of items deemed necessary for any self-respecting four year-old girl: jeans; t-shirts - long and short sleeved; shorts; a pink baseball cap which had been one of his only contributions - well, that and the miniature combat boots he’d quickly tucked under Maci’s growing wardrobe; a dress that fell somewhere in the purple family with a wide collar trimmed in lace; footie pajamas; and a minuscule menagerie of socks, undershirts, and My Little Kitty panties. After making a sizable dent in the clothing department, Diana had moved on to the shoe department, and then on to gather up shampoo, toothpaste, brushes - both hair and teeth varieties - and an assortment of other essentials, apparently deciding to boost company sales throughout the store.

Jack’s head was still reeling at the onslaught of items one barefoot, four year-old alien kid apparently had to have. Thank God, Maci was nowhere near puberty, or he was pretty sure he’d have been buying bright purple bras, too. He figured the girls department had laid pretty much a direct hit on his wallet. Well, technically, he’d snagged the pajamas from the boys department, but Diana hadn’t found anything close to the cool camouflage pj’s he’d spotted on the boys rack. He figured Maci wouldn’t mind. Reaching into the mound, he snagged the hair bow which he was pretty sure matched . . . something in there. Tracing the delicate beads and lace, he smiled and snorted softly - little girls.

* * * * *

From the moment he stepped into the toy store, Jack was confident he was on firmer ground. He knew toys; he liked toys. Ergo, this part of his shopping trip would be a piece of cake, easily accomplished, and he’d be able to get back to the mountain and check in person on Maci. Not that he didn’t trust Daniel. He did. In any given situation where there was the remotest of chances to talk their way out of danger, he’d put Daniel up against anyone in this galaxy, or the next. Even in a firefight, Daniel could hold his own and back him up. But, babysitting an alien kid? Well, despite Daniel’s phone call reassuring him everything was fine, he’d feel a lot better when he saw Maci for himself. This was a simple infiltration and extraction - in and out. He was here to replace a lost babbit named Pootie. Pootie. Jack cringed at the thought of the talk about _that_ little gem around the old SGC water cooler.

As he eyed the rows of floor to ceiling toys, it took him less than a minute to realize the toughest part of this mission would be to rein in his impetuosity and not go nuts. He didn’t want to spoil Maci. But, on the other hand, like he’d told Diana the sales lady, the poor kid had lost everything, and she’d need something to keep her busy until they could figure out a way to get her home. So, nobody could fault him if he bought her a few playthings.

Barbie’s come-hither look lured him into the doll aisle. Ah, the plastic call of the Lorelei, tempting unwary sailors and Air Force colonels since 1959. Jack figured he was pretty safe there. After all, every little girl needed a doll. That was a given. Hell, even Carter had probably had one, even if it had come dressed in a labcoat and spouting crap like ‘E=mc2’ when you pulled its string. Jack grinned. Actually, that wasn’t too far off base to Carter’s reaction when he pulled her string.

Jack stared into a cellophane coffin at the painted, plastic, broad-faced smirk only a mother could love. And, given the birth certificate and adoption information visible in the box, that apparently wasn’t going to happen unless some soft-hearted veggie lover came along and officially adopted the doll. Based on the variety of hair and eye colors, he was pretty sure the idea was to develop a bond between the doll and its owner via matching pseudo-genetics. But, he was equally sure, and a little relieved, none of the Cabbage Patches had long brown curls and yellow eyes.

It was mind-boggling really to think somewhere out there toy companies were busy developing dolls that giggled, swallowed, walked, talked, cried, farted and pooped on demand. And, to think he and his team had been busy saving the world to protect the designers of such brainchildren as Tinkle Time Kelly. Yep, mind-boggling was the word.

By the time he’d settled on a Baby Born Splish and Splash and dropped the tiny pink sponge and other accessories into his cart, Jack’s eyes were beginning to glaze, and he had yet to find that damn rabbit. He’d been on missions where life and death decisions were less taxing than choosing between the doll with fuzzy pink slippers and matching bathrobe or the one with the rubber duck ensemble.

"Excuse me, sir, could you tell me where the Limbo Elmo’s are? I’ve looked all over this part of the store and can’t find them."

Jack stared at the woman in disbelief. Limbo Elmo? She had to be kidding. That short, furry whatzit Charlie used to watch on Sesame Street. That thing could limbo? That was like Teal’c suddenly doing the merengue around the briefing room table. It had to be a gag. Maybe Ferretti had put her up to it. Candid Camera? "Excuse me?"

The woman shrugged apologetically, and nodded towards the toddler sitting in her cart. "It’s for _someone’s_ b-i-r-t-h-d-a-y," she spelled cautiously. "Mikey loved Hokey Pokey Elmo, so we were thrilled when this version came out."

Jack nodded dumbly. "Haven’t got a clue. Sorry. Maybe the manager . . .," his voice trailed off as the woman’s attention turned to her squirming child.

"Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll find it. You just looked like the type of grandfather who spent a lot of time in the toy store looking for ways to spoil his grandkids. Thanks anyway." She smiled sweetly. "Come on, Mikey. Let’s go." She dug around in her purse and pulled out an Elmo cell phone. "Mama needs to call daddy." She whisked the child away, leaving Jack blinking and dumbfounded in her wake.

Grandfather? He bent and craned his neck to peer into Vanity Barbie’s mirror, running his fingers through his hair. Okay, so there was some gray hair, a few lines, but holy crap - grandkids? No way. The woman had obviously been sniffing something. Definitely a mental case. He watched as the woman reached the end of the long aisle, stopped suddenly and, unbuckling little Mikey, stuck her nose to his butt and sniffed deeply. Jack choked back a loud snort. Well, that explained a lot. Smiling, he wrestled his cart around and headed in the opposite direction. Apparently, dogs and people - or at least mothers of toddlers, weren’t so different after all.

Play-Doh, puzzles, crayons, plastic mega blocks - all were necessities, and Jack added them to the cart, ignoring the twinges of guilt at the growing pile. Yeah, he didn’t want to spoil the kid so for now, he’d just stick to the basics.

* * * * *

Daniel eyed the bags with a critical eye. "You don’t think you went a little overboard, do you, Jack?"

Offended, Jack glared. "No, Daniel, I don’t. This is basic stuff every normal kid needs."

"I didn’t." He examined the fingerpaints and miniature easel with a slight air of alarm.

"I rest my case. Heads up, Carter." Jack tossed a package of batteries her way.

Laughing at Daniel’s dour look, Sam went back to unpacking the remote control Hummer, twisting the wire ties to free the tires. Muttering curses at the packaging company, she ignored the mound of Styrofoam growing around her, and struggled with the minute screws sealing the battery case. "I’m really surprised you didn’t get her a mountain bike, Colonel. Considering where we are. It’d be the first time anyone rode a bike inside the mountain." She looked up, puzzled when he didn’t respond to her teasing. "Wouldn’t it?"

Jack shrugged and ignored the question, his face a window of timeless innocence. "She’s a little young for a mountain bike, Carter, but that reminds me - I left the Big Wheel in the back of my truck with the rest of the stuff. You and Daniel go topside and get it."

"Jack, you’ve got to be kidding. You’ve got half a toy store in here already."

"Come on. What was I supposed to do? It’s a Harley-Davidson model. It’s got a headlight and a tailpipe. Way cool. Wait till you see it."

"No leather jacket?" Daniel muttered.

"It’s on back order."

"Give it up, Daniel," Sam groaned. "You’re not going to win." She brushed at the beads of Styrofoam clinging to her clothes. "Let’s go."

Daniel rolled his eyes as Jack pulled up a chair and pried the lid off the can of raspberry Play-doh Maci handed him.

"A tailpipe?" Daniel mouthed.

"Jack, help me make a baby turtle egg."

Sam shook her head and headed toward the door as Jack obediently reached for the ball of Play-doh. As the door swung shut, Jack handed Maci the raspberry egg and stood.

"I need more, Jack. The baby turtles need brothers and sisters. I don’t want them to be alonely."

"In a minute, kiddo. First, I’ve got something special for you. A surprise." Stepping around Teal’c, who was quietly rummaging through the bags littering the bed, Jack walked over to the bed, sat down, and picked up a colorfully wrapped box. "Wanna see what it is?"

Abandoning her mock turtle eggs, Maci scurried over to stand wide-eyed in front of him. She reached out with one grubby finger, and gently stroked the shiny paper. "Pretty. Is it a surprise?"

Jack chuckled and lifted her onto his knee, balancing the box on the other. "Actually, the surprise is inside the box. Why don’t you open it?" He smiled gently at her obvious confusion. With one finger he tore a small hole in the paper, ignoring her alarmed expression. "Like this. You tear off the paper so you can see what’s inside the box."

"My surprise?"

"Yep, Maci’s surprise." Her stubby little fingers made short work of the paper. As Jack pried off the lid, she tipped the box towards her and gasped. Jack’s grin widened at her reaction. "What do you think, kiddo? Does it look like a surprise?"

Maci reached in with both hands, and buried her face in thick, soft fur. Her voice was muffled as she answered, "It looks like a babbit, Jack."

"That’s what it says on his tag."

One golden eye peeked up at him amid tangles of fur and curls. "He’s not Pootie."

Jack arm tightened instinctively around her waist. "No," he answered softly, glancing quickly towards Teal’c who stood in silent witness. "Teal’c tried real hard to find Pootie, but he couldn’t. Your mommy and daddy took Pootie to your new home, so he’d be there waiting for you." He watched as she weighed and processed his words, nuzzling the rabbit’s brown fur. "Do you think you could take care of this one until then?"

Maci leaned back in the nest of his arms, her eyes solemn as she gently chewed on the tip of the rabbit’s floppy ear. "I could do that," she said seriously. "He needs a home."

Jack nodded seriously. "Yes, he does."

"Can he be Pootie, too?"

With a slight grimace, Jack’s brow puckered. "You know, I was thinking that maybe you should call this guy by a new name so there won’t be any confusion."

Maci seemed to consider this before she nodded. "What’s a good name for my new babbit?"

"I was thinking Homer might be a nice name for a really cool rabbit."

"Homo? That’s a funny name, but I like it."

Jack’s eyes widened in alarm. "No, not Homo - not that there’s anything wrong with that. Homer." Maci ignored him and giggled as her new toy’s ears flopped wildly when she bounced him up and down. "Maci, see this tag right here on your rabbit’s sweater?" As she nodded, he added, "The tag says his name is Lucky. See," he pointed, "it says it right here. So, we won’t have to name him after all. He’s already got a name - Lucky."

Maci bounced the rabbit again and giggled, "Jack, I like Lucky Homo."

* * * * *

Maci tugged on his shirt tail. "Jack, is it supposed to do this?" She stood there, staring at the knotted tangle of coiled metal. "Lucky liked that noise you made, but I can’t make it do that sound."

"No, I guess not." Jack reached out and took the mangled toy. Carter and Daniel had brought down the rest of the stuff he’d bought, and they’d been relaxing and watching Maci’s reaction to the various Earth toys. At least, he had. He was pretty sure Daniel was studying the little girl’s reaction with clinical detachment, and Carter had spent the time assembling the Harley.

"Is it broked?" Big, golden eyes stared sorrowfully up at him. "I’m sorry. I was just trying to make the sound like you did. But, it got away from me and when I tried to catch it, it stretched all out like Hedyzar’s yarn and got all in knots." Tears began to well.

"Hey, kiddo, no tears," Jack ordered. "We’re having too much fun for tears, aren’t we?" He smiled as Maci gave a half-hearted nod. "Daniel’s dying to try out those paints, and look how much fun Teal’c’s having with your stick horse."

Reluctantly, she glanced over at Teal’c who was tugging experimentally on the reins of the polka dot horse. "This appears to be a fine beast on which to ride into battle." Maci sniffed again and nodded her agreement.

"Besides," Jack grinned, "Carter can fix this up in no time." He handed Sam the knotted metal. "Can’t you, Carter?"

"Well, ah, I’m not sure it can be fixed, sir." Maci looked at her suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. "But I’ll try," Sam gulped.

Reaching down, Jack grabbed Maci and tossed her in the air amid wild giggles. "See, told ya. She’s a Slinky wiz. Known all over the galaxy. Problem solved. Carter can fix anything." Ignoring Sam’s frown, he tossed the little girl gently onto the bed amid bags and discarded boxes. "Stay there. I have something special I want to show you."

"I will deposit the mangled toy in your lab, Major Carter." Teal’c took the tangled metal, holding it as if it were a priceless treasure.

"Thank you, Teek," Maci scrambled to her knees and grinned up at him.

He bowed slightly, giving her a rare smile. "You are most welcome. Perhaps, someday, we may have the opportunity to engage in a battle of Candyland together."

"I’ll teach you," Maci nodded seriously.

"Indeed, I shall look forward to that time with great anticipation." Teal’c tilted his head at the sound of Sam’s soft snicker. Regally raising an eyebrow in her direction, he added smugly, "If you will excuse me, I will deposit your Slinky in Major Carter’s lab."

As the Jaffa left, Jack proved his bravery by purposefully ignoring the daggers Sam was tossing in his direction. "Maci, you and Lucky wait here on the bed and let Daniel get that belt untied while I get something ready in the bathroom."

"Another surprise, Jack?"

"Yep, another surprise. And, Carter, don’t even think about leaving. Your services are going to be needed in this enterprise." He ignored the panic that flashed across her face.

"But, sir . . ."

"Order, Major." He waggled a finger in her direction. "It’s time for Maci’s bath."

* * * * *

His low back twinging in protest, Jack leaned over the tub, stuck a hand in the water to test the temperature, and poured in a capful of Shrek bubblebath. Nothing much happened. He added another dollop, and a few sad bubbles churned under the tap. Shrugging, he dispensed with the cap and poured in a healthy dose. That should do it. Groaning, he stood, his knees popping ominously.

"Ready or not, here I come," he announced as he walked into the main room of the VIP suite.

Carter was sitting on the foot of the bed, quietly watching Daniel’s struggle to untie the gauze belt around Maci’s waist. Laying on the bed with Lucky clutched tightly in her arms, Maci was chuckling hysterically and squirming away from Daniel’s fingers. Dodging scrawny legs which aimed kicks at his midsection, Daniel bit his lower lip, inched his glasses back up on his nose with his shoulder, and looked over at Jack. "She’s ticklish."

"Ya think?" Jack smiled.

With a satisfied smile and a rousing ‘ta-da,’ Daniel pulled the gauze free then yelped and doubled over as a small bare foot connected with his groin. Maci laughed, and Carter frowned at Jack.

Wincing in sympathy, Jack reached down and picked up Maci, standing her on the bed. "Okay, kiddo. Bath time." He removed the sunglasses from around her neck and set them on the night stand.

"Dammit," Daniel groaned as he eased himself down onto the bed near Carter.

Maci laughed and looked at Jack. "Daniel’s funny."

"Yeah. He’s a real hoot. Come on, raise your arms."

Maci lifted her arms as Jack took Lucky then pulled the filthy scrub shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. Grabbing back the rabbit, Maci hugged it to her bare chest and grinned at Daniel. "You’re a hooter."

Carter bit back a grin.

"Which, by the way, rhymes with neuter," Jack quietly intoned. Carter laughed and Daniel glared. Ignoring them, Jack lifted Maci off the bed and set her on the floor. "Release the hounds!" he called playfully. Maci squealed and tiny, bare butt shining, ran for the bathroom dragging Lucky by a furry leg. "Carter, you coming?"

Sam’s laughter died, and she looked at him sullenly. "Yes, sir." She stood and began following him to the bathroom. "But, I don’t know why I have to do this. She doesn’t even like me."

"For cryin’ out loud," Jack grumbled, "you’re so sensitive. She’s a kid. She just has to get to know you first. Then she’ll love you. You’ll see."

"Yeah. Right."

Jack stepped into the small bathroom and immediately stopped. Maci was standing just inside the doorway, and was staring at the tub. When she spoke, her voice quivered. "Jack, what is it?"

"Ah, dammit."

"Sir?" Carter peered around him, then laughed. "Gee, Colonel, think you used enough bubblebath?"

He glared at her over his shoulder. "Ha. Ha." Stepping around a frowning Maci, Jack turned off the water and used his hands to sweep the waist high wall of bubbles towards one end of the tub. Checking the temperature of the bath water one last time, he beckoned to Maci. "Come on, kiddo. Hop in."

Tightly clutching Lucky, Maci shook her head.

"It’s okay. They’re just bubbles." Smiling, he popped a couple of the shiny, fragrant bubbles with his finger, and looked over at her. "They’re fun, see?"

She slipped a fuzzy rabbit paw in her mouth and shook her head again.

Jack looked at the foam then at his second in command. "Carter?"

Sam’s gaze went from Maci to him. Apparently, she read his mind with a single glance. "Oh, no." In imitation of the young girl, she shook her head. "No. I am not getting in the tub." When Jack opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. "No. Not even with my clothes on."

"Good grief." Tired and frustrated, Jack looked at Maci. In light of her refusal to budge, he could set her in the water and thus prove the bubbles were safe. But, he couldn’t bring himself to force her to do it. Just the thought of scaring her was enough to cause a flush of guilt to creep up his neck. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Don’t move," he instructed them. "I’ll be right back." He dashed into the bedroom area, went to the pile of bags and boxes strewn across the bed, and began digging through the toy store bags.

"What’s going on?"

Jack tossed a quick glance at Daniel who was standing near the foot of the bed. The guy’s color was back to normal but he was still slightly hunched over, obviously favoring his recent injury. "A little bubble problem."

"Huh?"

"Ah-ha. Here you are." Giving himself a mental pat on the back for thinking ahead, Jack held up the plastic doll, along with her bathtime accessories, and grinned at his friend.

Daniel’s forehead creased. "Gee, Jack. For some reason, I always saw you more as a Rock‘em Sock‘em Robot, or sharp, pointy lawn darts kind of guy."

Jack made a face, and carrying the doll by the head, returned to the bathroom with Daniel following close behind. Plopping down onto the floor next to the tub, Jack smiled at Maci. "You wanna help me give her a bath?"

Furry, stuffed foot still crammed in her mouth, Maci’s only response was to inch closer.

"See, first, we’ve got to take off her pink, hooded towel thingy." As his clumsy fingers worked to unwrap the stiff doll, he encountered tiny, dirty hands attempting to help him.

Maci had set Lucky on the floor beside the tub where the rabbit could watch, and had squatted down next to Jack. She pointed at the doll’s footwear. "What are those, Jack?"

"Oh, those? Those are her yellow ducky shoes."

"They’re pretty. Can I have some?"

"I don’t see why not. But, for now, we should take these off her so they don’t get wet when she takes her bath."

Maci removed the slippers, admired them, then wrangled them onto Lucky’s feet. She chuckled at the sight of the rabbit in duck shoes, and grinned up at Jack, who winked at her.

"Okay, here we go. Bathtime," he told the doll. Gently, he set the doll in the water, surreptitiously watching Maci, who keenly eyed the wall of foam. "Hand me that pink scrubbie thing, would ya, Mace."

"This?" She held up the bath sponge.

"Yep." He took it from her, dunked it in the water and held it over the doll, dribbling water and suds onto the thing’s head.

Maci frowned, throwing cautious glances at the bubbles. "Will that poppy stuff hurt her?"

"What? That stuff?" Jack indicated the bubbles. "Are you kidding me? She loves it, don’t you, dolly?"

"Her name’s Miya."

Recognizing the name as that of Maci’s baby sister, Jack grinned. "Miya loves bubblebath. Watch." Making soft motor noises, Jack propelled the doll through the water, into the foam, and back out. "See?" he laughed. "She loves it."

"It didn’t hurt her," Maci observed.

"Of course not. Bath bubbles are great fun. Heck, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a bath that didn’t have bubbles. The more bubbles, the better."

"Gee, Jack, I had no idea that-"

"Shut up, Daniel," Jack intoned without looking up. He grinned at Maci. "So, you want to get in with Miya? I bet you’ll like it."

She glanced up at Daniel and Carter then over at Lucky before standing up. "Okay, Jack, but you have to watch out for me."

"I will. I promise." Gently, Jack lifted her up and set her in the warm water. Very slowly, her eyes glued to the looming, effervescent cloud, Maci eased her way down to a sitting position. Jack handed her the sponge. "Maybe you should give Miya a bath. You’re probably better at it than I am."

She took the sponge and, still studying the foam, absently wiped at the doll. Finally, she stretched out a dirty hand and touched the bubbles. Nearly forgetting that his knees and back were aching like a son-of-a-bitch, Jack chuckled as she swept her hand through the foam and grinned at him, her tiny body shivering in childish excitement. Easing off of his knees and onto his butt, Jack inched back and leaned up against the wall. "Carter," he tossed her a washcloth, "you’re up."

Begrudgingly, Sam knelt beside the tub, gave a stoic Maci a tentative smile, and began gently washing the little girl. Soon, Maci seemed to have forgotten Carter’s presence. As she was being bathed, she scooped up suds with her hands and lathered up baby Miya. After thoroughly dunking and rinsing the doll, she began lobbing handfuls of the slowly disintegrating stack of bubbles at Jack.

"Oh, I’ve been hit," Jack cried when a small glob hit him on the forehead and slowly slid down his nose. Mortally wounded, he slumped over dramatically and squinted at Maci, who was laughing hysterically. "Nailed, right between the eyes."

Daniel grinned, and Carter chuckled as she began washing Maci’s arm. "Maybe we should put her on the team, sir."

Suddenly reminded of the major’s presence, Maci grew serious. "Be careful with me," she softly instructed her.

Sam frowned and glanced at Jack. "Don’t worry, I will." She turned Maci’s arm and began washing a smudge of dirt from the soft skin of the tiny forearm.

"Ow," Maci mumbled.

Carter stopped what she was doing. "What? Are you okay? Does your hand still hurt?"

Jack straightened and wiped the suds from his face with the pink baby doll towel. "Her hand? What happened to her hand?"

Daniel stiffened and cleared his throat. "Oh, she’s fine. Aren’t you, Maci?"

Jack studied him suspiciously then looked back over at his charge. Carter was gingerly examining Maci’s fingers. "Nothing, Colonel. Janet just said that Daniel apparently squeezed her hand too hard."

Before Jack could question him further, Daniel blurted, "And Sam called her a brat."

Frowning, Jack pulled up his legs and rested his arms on his throbbing knees. "How old are you two anyway? Five?"

"I’m almosted five," Maci proudly declared, grinning at Jack and slapping at the remaining soap bubbles with her free hand.

"Yeah, and unlike some other people I know, you actually act your age." Ignoring the grunts and glares of protest from his team members, Jack smiled at her. "So, does your hand hurt?"

Maci shook her head, dark curls dancing. "No. Just my arm where she squeeze-ed it," she replied, indicating Carter with a quick glance. "Can Lucky take a bath, Jack?"

"No, rabbits don’t like water. It gets in their big ears, and makes them grouchy."

"Kinda like someone else-"

"Daniel," Jack warned him, "does someone need a time-out?"

Sam snorted softly and, wringing out the washcloth, began to get to her feet.

"Hey, Carter." When she looked at him, Jack tossed her a bottle of no-tears shampoo. "Don’t forget the hair."

* * * * *

After a rousing game of Candyland, Jack informed Carter and Daniel it was time for them to get a life of their own - preferably somewhere far enough away that they wouldn’t disturb his sleep. After they left, Jack quickly straightened the already messy room as Maci and Lucky - she in her camouflage pj’s and he in his yellow ducky slippers - sat on the floor and scribbled with a cornflower blue crayon on the back of a mission report.

"Okay, kiddo, time to brush your teeth."

Still doodling, Maci asked, "What’s brush your teeth?"

"You know, with a toothbrush and toothpaste." As she gave him a puzzled stare, Jack realized she didn’t know. How could she? The Enkarans probably cleaned their teeth with their fingers or a stick or something. "Come on, I’ll show you. It’s fun."

A picture perfect glob of pink, bubblegum-flavored toothpaste coating the bristles of her brand new Bart Simpson toothbrush, Jack sat down on the toilet lid and held the brush in front of Maci’s mouth. "Okay. Open up and I’ll show you how it’s done here on Earth." Lips pressed together, Maci shook her head. "It’s fun. Like the bubbles. You liked the bubbles, right?"

"Yeah," she hesitantly admitted and frowned at the brush in his hand. "Do Lucky." She held the rabbit up in front of her.

Jack considered it, then looked at the brown furry smile and reconsidered. "It won’t work on him because his mouth is closed. It only works if you open your mouth." Jack seemed to think about it. "Tell you what, open your mouth and we’ll brush your teeth. Then, maybe after seeing how fun it is for you, Lucky will open his mouth and we can do his. Okay?"

"Okay." She opened her mouth slightly, and Jack slipped the brush between her lips and started gently brushing.

"See, that’s not so bad, is it?" Her face screwed up in a wrinkly grimace. "Don’t swallow it, okay?" Still making a face, she nodded, as he continued to brush. Finally, he announced, "Great job, kiddo. Now, I’ll hold you over the sink, and you spit, okay?"

She nodded emphatically. Jack set the brush on the counter and lifted her up over the sink. Maci was spitting almost before he had her in position. With one hand, he ran a cup of cold water and handed it to her.

"Rinse, and then you’re done." Dropping Lucky to the floor, Maci took the cup in both hands, drank deeply, and began choking. "No, don’t swallow. Rinse your mouth and spit it out." She handed the cup back and wriggled her legs to be set down. He lowered her to the floor. "You okay?"

She wiped foam from her lips with her sleeve. "That tasted yucky!"

"Are you kidding? It tastes like bubblegum."

"Then I don’t like bubblemum," she declared as she picked up Lucky.

Jack chuckled and straightened, ruffling her hair with one hand. "Okay. No bubblegum for you, then. Now, scoot on back to your coloring and I’ll be out in a sec."

Shutting the door behind her, Jack emptied his bladder, washed his hands, and dug in his overnight kit for his own toothbrush. He squeezed some of her toothpaste onto the bristles and dug with one hand for his razor as he began brushing.

"Oh God," he mumbled, gagging as he leaned over the sink. He spat and gagged again. Quickly, he poured himself a cup of water, rinsed, then rinsed a second time. "Shit." He picked up the tube, read it, and tossed it back onto the counter. "Aqua fresh, my ass."

Ten minutes later, he tucked Maci and Lucky under the covers on the small cot they’d brought into the room for her. Pulling the sheet up around her small chest, he leaned down and kissed her forehead by the dim light filtering around the bathroom door. "Goodnight." With a loud sigh, he sat down on his own bed and unlaced his boots. He was exhausted.

"Jack, don’t you want to hear my thank you’s?" With Lucky snuggled up against her side, Maci watched him.

"Your thank you’s?"

"Mommy says we should always say thank you’s for each day."

"Oh. Yeah." He smothered a yawn. "Of course, I want to hear them."

Maci tightly closed her eyes in concentration. "Thank you for Mommy and Daddy and Gartan and Jinar and Fagyn and Miya and Namar and Lata. Thank you for the Badmeers not being bad and burning us all up. Thank you for Hedyzar. Thank you for my turtle babies."

Jack frowned, and made a mental note to call some local pet stores in the morning.

"Thank you for Daniel and Teek. Thank you for my new babbit, Lucky Homo, and for my toys and the new things Jack gotted me. Thank you that Carter didn’t hurted me too bad. And, thank you for Jack who didn’t let me get lefted behind by myself and who’s taking care of me." Opening her eyes, she grinned at him.

Jack smiled. "That was just great, Maci."

"I had lots of thank you’s, didn’t I, Jack?"

"You sure did." And all that on what had to be one of the worst days of her short life. He felt a surge of inexplicable guilt, and his heart lurched for this little, trusting girl. "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Jack."

Still sitting on the bed, he waited until she settled in one spot and closed her eyes before pulling off his shoes and laying down fully clothed. God, what a day. He rolled over onto his back and groaned as something hard poked him on the ass. Reaching down with one hand, he pulled out the offender - the bath doll. Smiling to himself, he laid it on his chest and immediately dozed off.

He jerked awake, suddenly aware that not only was he curled up with a baby doll, he was also being watched. Blinking, he looked towards the small cot only to see Maci standing next to his bed with Lucky hugged tightly in her arms.

He lifted his head. "Maci," he said sleepily, "something wrong?" She didn’t move, but in the soft light from the bathroom, he could see tears wetting her cheeks. "Hey, sweetie, what’s the matter?"

His kind words ruptured the dam and the tears flowed from her eyes. "I want my mommy, Jack," she sobbed.

"Oh, baby." He tossed aside the doll and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and pulling the girl onto his lap.

"I want my mommy," she repeated as she pressed her face against his t-shirt.

"Sshh," Jack soothed. He held her close, her tears soaking his shirt and tearing at his heart. "It’s okay." Scooting back on the bed, he leaned up against the headboard and wrapped long arms around her and Lucky, squeezing them close and wishing he could make everything all better. Her sobs made his stomach ache in sympathy. "Sshh," he repeated as he stroked the soft curls.

Eventually, the wracking cries leveled off into a quieter, ageless grief. Jack lowered his chin to the top of her head, leaning his cheek against hair that smelled like a baby’s.

"I want my mommy," she whimpered softly, half-asleep.

Jack kissed her curls. "I know, baby," he whispered. "I know."

It was over an hour before he could bring himself to let go of her. Gingerly, he laid her sleeping form on the bed, made sure Lucky was safely secured against her chest, and pulled the covers over them both. Patting the rabbit on the head, he brushed back the curls from Maci’s forehead, and eased off the bed.

Quietly, he lowered himself onto the cot, lay down on his side, and pulled his long legs up towards his stomach. The cot was narrow, and the hard edge dug into his thigh and his shoulder. Grunting, trying not to wake Maci, he struggled onto his back and stretched out, muffling an exhausted yawn with the back of his hand. The end of the cot hit just above his ankles, cutting into the muscles of his calves. Grimacing, he bent his legs and pointed his toes towards the side. Not much better.

Weary beyond words, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the problems presented by sleeping on a child-sized bed. He tried not to notice the bar running under the middle of the cot and pressing against his spine. He tried not to think about the fact that muscles already aching and sore from bending over a tub were now beginning to spasm. He tried not to feel the growing numbness in his feet and the burning in his calves where the bed bit into him. Finally, groaning softly, he rolled back onto his side and blinked over at the little girl slumbering peacefully in the full-sized bed.

Despite the circumstances, Jack smiled and said a few silent thank you’s of his own - for Daniel keeping them on the planet long enough to find Maci; for pet stores that hopefully carry baby turtles; for a babbit named Lucky and not Pootie or Homo; but especially for little girls who have the power to bring grown men to their knees.

As he lay there in the semi-darkness watching her, Maci rolled over and curled around Lucky. "Mommy," she whimpered in her sleep, "my tummy hurts."

**< finis?>**

  


* * *

  


> Authors’ Note: It has been said that there are times we must get in touch   
> with our inner child. This fic is a result of allowing our inner children access   
> to the same playground.

* * *

> © March 2005 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate   
> (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko   
> Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and no money   
> exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters,   
> situations, and story are the property of the authors. This story may not be   
> posted elsewhere without the consent of the authors.

* * *

  



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